


Pride on a Kiss

by snarky_saxophonist



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Greg Gibson is a shitty ump and a shitty person, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 12:51:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_saxophonist/pseuds/snarky_saxophonist
Summary: There’s the sound of a glove being forcefully chucked into a locker from behind Willy, and he turns to see Kyle glowering at the locker room. Rizzo’s raised eyebrow and glance at Willy from where he’s standing not far from Kyle seem to indicate that he’s noticed the pitcher’s strange behavior as well, so Willy’s not hallucinating.Kyle's none too happy about how Willy's being treated by umpires.





	Pride on a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the Cubs' 11-2 loss to the Reds on 6/23/18 and based off of [this incident](http://www.chicagotribune.com/sports/baseball/cubs/ct-spt-cubs-willson-contreras-umpire-20180623-story.html). Basically, Gibson said something to Contreras that he felt was directed as a personal attack, bench coach Brandon Hyde started yelling at Gibson, and Hyde got ejected. Additionally, earlier this season, Gibson threw out hitting coach and assistant hitting coach Chili Davis and Andy Haines when they got upset after Kris Bryant was beaned in the head against the Rockies. (Also, you should totally check out my fic [The Beating of Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14557194), based on that incident.)
> 
> As always, if you or someone you know personally is tagged in this, please close out of it now. This is intended to be fictional, and no offense to the parties involved is intended. (Except maybe Greg Gibson.)

Once the media has cleared out and it’s just the Cubs left to bask in their loss, Willy scans his teammates to see how they’re doing. Duensing and Farrell both look pretty unhappy, more than likely upset with themselves for not winning the game for the Cubs, but given that they’re both already talking quietly to some of the other relievers, Willy’s not too concerned.

There’s the sound of a glove being forcefully chucked into a locker from behind Willy, and he turns to see Kyle glowering at the locker room. Rizzo’s raised eyebrow and glance at Willy from where he’s standing not far from Kyle seem to indicate that he’s noticed the pitcher’s strange behavior as well, so Willy’s not hallucinating.

“Hey, el profesor,” Willy says, ambling over to Kyle. Much of the rest of the team is already in the showers, so there aren’t many people paying attention to them. “How ya doing?”

“Fine,” Kyle says, wiping the anger off his face so quickly that Willy would almost think he’d imagined it, if not for how Kyle’s shoulders are still tensed. “You going out?”

“No,” Willy lies, quickly amending his plans. “If you want, I thought we could just go back to the hotel and order room service.”

“Fine,” Kyle repeats, turning back to his locker to grab his bag. “Ready?”

“One minute,” Willy says, resisting the urge to wince at Kyle’s one-word answers.

Gimenez shoots him a sympathetic look as Willy hurries across the locker room to get his stuff together, offering him a quick fist bump in support. And while Willy’s not exactly looking forward to discussing whatever has Kyle so angry, especially in the wake of this disaster of a game, he doesn’t mind it. Kyle’s certainly done the same for him far too many times.

“Ready?” Kyle asks again, right behind him, making Willy flinch in surprise.

“I’m good to go.”

“Already called an Uber.” Kyle’s walking away as he talks, so Willy nearly has to jog after him to keep up. 

“What, not even going to comment on my beautiful homer today?” he needles, hoping to get something out of Kyle.

“It was nice,” is Kyle’s only response. And then of course he speeds up so Willy’s walking behind him again, and Willy’s tired. He’s been playing a lot lately and not hitting and dealing with pitchers exploding and he’s not in the mood to run to keep up with Kyle. Their shared hotel room will force Kyle to talk to him sooner or later.

 

No sooner has Willy closed the door behind them and opened his mouth to ask Kyle what’s wrong than Kyle whirls to face him, eyes burning with anger.

“What the fuck did he say to you?” Kyle demands, voice barely above a whisper but so laced with venom that Willy nearly takes a step back.

“Who?” 

“The fucking piece of shit umpire,” Kyle says, fists clenching seemingly reflexively at his sides. Finally understanding, Willy takes Kyle’s pitching hand in both of his and leads Kyle over to the bed.

“Not something worth being this upset about,” he says instead of answering, because he’s not sure that Kyle will see it the same way. Hyde certainly didn’t, when he was screaming at Gibson to shut the fuck up.

“So tell me what he said.” And they’re back to short, clipped sentences. Not exactly what Willy was aiming for.

Idly stretching out his legs in front of him, Willy doesn’t meet Kyle’s eyes when he responds. “He said sarcastically ‘you’re welcome’ when he gave the timeout. Then when I asked him what he meant, he said I need to show more respect for umpires and for the game.”

“He fucking-“ Kyle’s visibly seething now, teeth clenched together so tightly it has to be painful. Willy has to yank on Kyle’s arm to keep him from getting up.

“Where are you trying to go?”

“To go have something done about his fucking inexcusable behavior,” Kyle says, voice so level and calm-sounding that Willy lets go of his hand in surprise, prompting Kyle to get to his feet and get halfway across the room before Willy goes after him.

“Yeah? Like what?” Willy props himself against the door so Kyle can’t get out without going straight through him, keeping himself as relaxed as possible in an attempt to calm Kyle down. 

“I don’t know, file a complaint!” Kyle looks so indignant, and Willy can’t hold back his laughter, sliding down the door to sit on the floor. “What’s so funny?”

“You can’t file a complaint against an ump. There’s nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Just like there was nothing we could do when Gibson tossed out Chili and Andy for daring to be upset when their best player got hit in the head,” Kyle mutters, sitting down and leaning his head back against the wall. “It sucks.”

“A little bit, yeah,” Willy agrees, scooting over so he can maneuver Kyle into leaning against him. It doesn’t take much encouragement to get Kyle to rest his head against Willy’s shoulder, another sigh escaping him.

“Aren’t you mad? People keep saying this shit about you and it makes me so angry because none of it’s true.”

Willy takes a moment to respond, running his fingers through Kyle’s hair as he thinks. 

“It does make me angry,” he says finally, “but also sad. They seem so stuck in baseball being their way that they can’t see that I do respect the game, I just have fun and play with passion. We can’t all show our passion by walking off the field like someone kicked a puppy.”

That does draw a faint smile out of Kyle, which isn’t the laugh that Willy was hoping for but is still better than Kyle’s mopey, angry demeanor from earlier.

“I wish they could see you the way I do,” Kyle says, smile fading again. “It’s not fair that you have to deal with this.”

“Hey, I’m a major league baseball player. I think that’s worth having some umps and managers not like me.”

“I’m also a major league ballplayer, and I don’t have to deal with this. You don’t see it happening to Kris or Rizz. Or Buster Posey, for that matter,” Kyle points out.

“And Javy does have to deal with it. I don’t like it, but I don’t want to waste all my energy thinking about it. It’s not worth it,” Willy says.

“It still pisses me off,” Kyle mutters, but he seems less upset now.

“You know what pisses me off? Losing, and being hungry,” Willy says, hopping to his feet and offering Kyle a hand up. “Let’s get food.”

This time, Kyle does laugh as he takes Willy’s hand and uses it to pull Willy into a kiss. “You’re so subtle in changing the subject.”

“I could change the subject a different way,” Willy suggests, ceasing his search for the room service menu and instead kissing Kyle again. He can feel Kyle smiling against his lips, which means Willy’s not sufficiently distracting him, so he bites down lightly on Kyle’s lower lip. Kyle inhales sharply, kissing Willy back eagerly before pulling away.

“Can we actually eat first? I’m starving.”

“You started it,” Willy whines, stealing one more kiss before going to the desk to retrieve the room service menu, which he tosses at Kyle. “Here. Find something healthy for us.”

“So boring,” Kyle teases, like he’s not the type to eat an omelet with kale for breakfast every single morning. 

“I’ll show you boring,” Willy threatens, reaching towards Kyle’s belt and raising his eyebrows suggestively. Kyle just laughs and swats his hands away, pointing the menu at Willy to fend him off.

“Want to watch a movie?” Willy suggests as Kyle continues to peruse the menu. 

“Yeah, pick whatever you want.” Kyle doesn’t even look up, instead reaching for the phone to place their order. While he does that, Willy takes the opportunity to get comfy on the bed, flicking through the available movies on TV. 

“Captain America? Good choice, I’m always happy to look at Chris Evans,” Kyle says, kissing Willy’s head as he settles in next to him.

“I’m offended,” Willy mutters petulantly, turning away from Kyle to sulk.

“Hey, I love you more,” Kyle says, peppering kisses along Willy’s neck and cheek. “You’d make a much better Captain America. You’re my Captain Venezuela, and Chris Evans has nothing on that.”

“You’re so cheesy.” Willy relents, rolling back over so he can kiss Kyle properly. 

“Good, I hate when you’re upset,” Kyle says with a smile, kissing him again.

Willy doesn’t want to pause kissing Kyle, but he pulls away so he can study Kyle’s expression. “Are you still upset?” 

“Still a little pissed, but not too much,” Kyle says with a crooked smile. “You have a great way of distracting me.”

“Glad to be of service,” Willy replies, tangling his fingers in Kyle’s hair so he can pull him closer for more kisses. For once, Kyle’s dark eyes don’t look like they’re hiding a million thoughts going at a thousand miles per hour. And call him selfish, but Willy always wants Kyle’s laser focus directed at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment or kudos if you enjoyed please!


End file.
